My Commendation Letters

I was invited one day
before a long ago TPA
include your commendation letters
to your binder, if you wish

And I realized that I did not have any
Not one, not a single one
I had something else though
that cannot be filed away
and framed on walls

I have a crowded classroom though
and it fills up everyday, until there is only standing room
My students are shy sometimes
And bold some days
as they enter the room
with their rich, rich schema (a favourite word in room 206)
of many things I do not know, can only imagine

I have to bring in more chairs
For their mothers and their fathers
For their grandfathers and grandmothers
For their uncles and aunts

I see their dreams shine
Whenever I meet them
And they dream just like I do
They want the same things that I want, and you do
For our children

That their child is safe
That she can learn and be happy
and cared for, and fed and celebrated for

Whatever they understand
As a respectable job, not precarious, no layoffs
Schema again.

“Doctors, engineers, dentists”
They say,
as many scoff at
their ignorance of choices

that is our ideal, too isn't it?
Of not being frowned upon
Of having food on the table
Of having enough for our children, and they for theirs?

My students are my badge of honour
They shine and they glow
Yet I have no commendation letters

I have memories,
of food brought, piping hot, vadai, sometimes pongal
Mangoes in May, of tears shed at Grad
of hands held in hallways, with sisterly concern
of phone calls when my child was ill

And the reassurance
That a women’s group at the masjid was
also praying for us

“Borders do not exist between hearts” I say to them always
Dilon ke beech deewarein nahin hoteen
Our countries had fought several wars, you see

And that warmth, this love is what I hold in my heart
Everyday, as I walk with you.

I have no commendation letters.